Confessions 3

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by Miranda Forbes


  By the time they’d got to the pool I was ready, watching them and able to take a decent quality photo any time I liked. The taller girl, who I thought of as Cheeky, didn’t seem too sure of herself, balancing across the rocks and tufts of grass with her arms extended, which made her look wonderfully sweet and vulnerable. Her plump friend, Tits, was a lot more confident, jumping from rock to rock, which was why she got to the edge of the pool first. It hadn’t rained for a while, so the river was quite low, with areas of broad, smooth rock at the sides, normally under water, but perfect for anybody wanting to bathe.

  Tits had dropped her towel and lost no time in taking off her shoes so that my heart rate picked up faster still at the thought of watching her do a careless strip and jumping in naked. All she did was dip one toe in to test the water, then call back to her friend, leaving me excited and frustrated all at once because I couldn’t hear what they were saying and didn’t know if she’d decided it was too cold or what.

  Once Cheeky had caught up they stood together on the rock ledge for a while, staring down into the water as if trying to make up their minds whether to go in or not. I was praying they would, and my prayers were answered. They both spread their towels out, before Tits climbed up on to one of the bigger rocks to look up and down the valley, presumably checking to see if there were any Peeping Toms about and quickly deciding she was safe. Little did she know!

  She said something to Cheeky and then began to undress, not even bothering to cover herself with her towel, but just peeling up her top to show off two big, round boobs encased in black material.

  That’s always a great moment, when a girl pulls her top up and you see what’s underneath but you’re not sure if it’s a bikini top, in which case it’s probably staying on, or a bra, in which case it’s almost certainly coming off. With Tits it was a bra, and it came off. She was huge. I mean, really big, the sort of fat, bouncy boobies you wouldn’t normally expect to see on any woman under forty, only over a tiny waist that made them look bigger still. She had a lovely plump bottom too, and when she pushed her jeans down I had to adjust my cock in my pants for the sight of those big, juicy cheeks covered in nothing but a pair of little black knickers far too small to hold her in properly.

  I was hoping she’d take them off, but she seemed to decided that going topless was daring enough and sat down on a rock. Meanwhile, Cheeky had begun to undress, but she was being much shyer about it, especially as the only other person there was her friend, or at least so she thought. She’s wrapped her towel around herself and was trying to undress underneath without showing anything, only it didn’t really work, because it wasn’t until she’d got all her lower clothes off that she decided to get her swimming costume out of her bag. When she did it she let her towel slip, and I pressed the button on the camera just in time, to record my first perfect flash of the day.

  I’ve still got the picture, which is better than the reality was at the time because of the quality of the camera and the lens. She’s kneeling down on the rock, in a slightly awkward position, her bottom stuck out as she reaches for the back, her pretty face set in embarrassment and consternation as she realises she’s dropped the towel, which has just fallen away to leave her cheeks on full, naked show, well parted because of the position she’s in, with her pussy lips pouting out backwards between her thighs and her tight pink arsehole in plain view.

  After seeing that I wanted to take my cock out and finish off, but I knew there’d be more, if only the pleasure of watching Tits swim and sunbathe topless. What I got was rather better. Tits seemed to think the state Cheeky was getting herself into was funny and began to tease her, maybe trying to persuade her to leave her bikini top off, although I couldn’t make out the words. She was certainly putting on a good display though, deliberately jiggling her boobies at her friend, as if to say that if I can show these whoppers, then you can show yours, which are only half the size. Unfortunately cheeky wouldn’t go for it, but no sooner were they in the water than Tits tried to get her friend’s top off. That started a play fight, and as Tits was already topless Cheeky had no way of retaliating except to go for her friend’s pants. She did, pulling them off the struggling Tits under water and waving them in the air with a crow of laughter I heard clearly from right up on the hill. She then threw them up onto the rock ledge, forcing Tits to retrieve them and in doing so treat me to a lovely display of pussy and bare, wobbling bottom, not to mention her enormous boobs, all of which I captured on camera.

  After her humiliation she was determined to get her own back, but for all her confidence and agility she was really too small. She got stripped again by the laughing Cheeky, but this time she didn’t even bother to retrieve her bikini bottoms but got stuck in once more, now more determined than ever. The less a girl shows the more I like to see what she’s got, so when Cheeky eventually got her top pulled off by a triumphant Tits I was in heaven, but the best was yet to come.

  Tits threw Cheeky’s bikini top onto the rocks, deliberately forcing her to go bare out of the water, just like she’d been made to do herself, but as Cheeky hauled herself out Tits was right behind her, and she pulled down her friend’s bikini bottoms. I saw everything, Cheeky gave a squeak of shock and she’d gone forward, her face and chest on the flat, dry rock, her legs still in the water, her bare bottom stuck up with her bikini pants in a tangle around her thighs and the lips of her beautifully turned little pussy sticking out between, shaved and nude, with the brownish dimple of her arsehole also showing. In the close up of the photo I took you can even see the lines were her hole goes in, and that was my second perfect shot of the day, and I think the best of all.

  NELSON – Streatham

  The Bull

  Ever since I can remember I’ve had a thing about going with other people’s women. Maybe it’s the thrill of the chase. Maybe it’s the power trip. Maybe it’s just because I can, but whatever it is, for me there’s nothing quite like being up to my balls in somebody else’s girl’s pussy, and the more pissed off he’d be about it the better.

  I don’t really count the early stuff. When you’re eighteen or nineteen you change girlfriends like you change your clothes and half the people have bonked each other anyway. So I reckon my first as the time I’d got my first regular job and fucked the boss’s wife. He was one of these big name chefs, and the way he carried on you’d have thought he was royalty, only I’m sure royalty would never have behaved the way he did. He was a complete bastard, even to the managers, and to me, the kitchen boy in his biggest restaurant, he barely acknowledged that I existed. It wasn’t just that he had a hot temper either. He really thought he was it, and he was the only man I’ve ever met who openly claimed to be a genius.

  Maybe he could cook, but he wasn’t so clever. His wife was beautiful, and he used to parade her around like she was part of his property, no different to the way he treated his cars. She was always immaculate, designer dresses, unique jewellery from the best places, the works. He was a right arse licker too, because whenever anybody famous came to the restaurant he’d be there, with her on his arm, trying to make out like he was personal friends with whoever it was. He kept pretty close tabs on his wife too, only not close enough.

  The first time was after some film premier. There were loads of celebrities about, and we’d got two tables booked. He was well pleased with himself, and yelling at everybody, telling us we’d be sacked if we made even one mistake. I just got on with my job, which was mainly hauling crates and shifting tables and chairs, taking out the trash bags, really any thing that nobody else wanted to do. He’d made it very plain to me that he wanted me out of sight and told me that if I bothered the celebrities I’d be sacked on the spot. I hadn’t planned on bothering anybody. That was his job.

  Once the restaurant was open but before people started to leave their tables there wasn’t a lot for me to do, but I was keen not to catch his eye, or anybody else’s, because his bad te
mper tended to feed down the food chain and I was at the bottom. I spent as much of the evening as I could out the back, where there was a little yard where the deliveries came in. When the door opened I quickly pretended to be busy stacking crates, only it wasn’t one of the chefs or waiters, it was her.

  She did look good. The yard light was right above her, which made a sort of golden halo of her hair and helped to show off the dress she was wearing. It was red, and clung to every contour of her body, right down to her ankles. She’d been a catwalk model before they’d met, and she had that sort of figure, very tall and willowy, only with enough hips and bust to leave no doubt whatsoever that she was a grown woman. Grown, yes, but actually not all that much older than me, only because of who she was I’d never even tried to talk to her.

  I didn’t try then, either, but kept on with my stacking, expecting her to ignore me, or maybe criticise me for something, because I’d always assumed she’d be a bitch. Who else would have married him? Only she didn’t. She just stood there, smoking, just as if she’d come out for a quick fag like one of the kitchen staff, and then she said hello. I said hello back and we started to talk, me pretty blunt, her with this sort of teasing manner, like it amused her to speak to the kitchen boy. That would have pissed me off, normally, only there was something about her voice and the way she was looking at me, something warm.

  When she said she’d had her eye on me I thought it meant one of two things, that she didn’t like me and was going to get me sacked, or that she did like me and wanted to help me move up in the trade. From the way she was it looked likely to be the second, and if I didn’t really want to be her pet then I’ve got too much sense to turn down that sort of chance. The truth was something else.

  She started talking about my muscles, a few comments, then she came over and took a squeeze of my arm. I thought she was trying to get a rise out of me, maybe even coming on to me a bit so that when I responded she could have the pleasure of putting me down, perhaps even getting me the sack. So I held back a bit, but that only made her keener. She kept glancing at the door too, and after a bit suggested that we move round to the side, where we couldn’t be seen. That’s where she asked me to take my coat and top off and work bare from the waist up. No woman does that unless she’s interested, and she was getting to me, what with the way she looked and the way she moved. She smelt lovely too, and all in all she was making me so horny that even though I still thought she was riding me for a fall I did it. That was the end of my doubts. Once I’d been working with no top for a couple of minutes it was quite obvious she was turned on. Her nipples were sticking up through her dress like corks for a start, and there was no mistaking the glitter in her eyes or the way her painted lips stayed a little bit open.

  I suggested that if I was going to have no top, then nor should she. She said I was a cheeky monkey, then quickly realised what she’d said and apologised, then said she’d do as I’d asked to show she wasn’t a racist. Looking back, I reckon she had the whole thing set up, but just then I didn’t care, only as long as she did what she’d promised, which was to slip the straps of that amazing red dress off her shoulders and ease it down off her breasts and to her waist. She had nothing on underneath, but she was so firm they stayed just as they were, quite big, and very proud, each lovely round tit topped by a hard pink nipple.

  That was more than I could resist. She was into me and that was enough, so I took hold of her, kissing her with one of those perfect tits in one hand and the other clamped to her lovely little bum. She was really soft, for all the way her flesh held up so perfectly, and she felt light and fragile in my arms. She seemed to like what I was doing too, and she definitely liked my muscles, because she couldn’t stop stroking the skin of my back and arms, at least, not until she went down to take a squeeze of my cock.

  I am big, and that’s not always a good thing because some girls can’t take it, or want to but find it hurts. From the little purr of delight she gave when she took hold I knew she liked it, and before I could do anything else she’d gone down into a squat and unzipped me, to pull out my cock and balls. My cock went straight into her mouth and she started to play with my balls while she sucked me, really enjoying herself. So was I, just to see her face, so pretty and immaculately made up, only with her red painted lips parted around my shaft.

  I was half hard already, just from looking at her and that quick feel, and she soon got me all the way in her mouth. When she came off she gave that little purr again, then told me to make it quick. I knew what she meant and I didn’t need telling. Somebody might come out into the yard at any moment, and they only had to come as far as the gate to see us. I took over, treated her like I’d treat any other woman who I knew was up for it, like a fuck dolly. I wasn’t going down on the ground, so I bent her over a stack of crates and pulled up her dress. She had no knickers, so I got her perfect little bum bare in one, all round and sweet between her dress and the tops of her fancy stockings, with her tight little arsehole showing in the middle. She stuck it out, letting me see the target, with just a little triangle of hair over her slit and her lips sticking out ready to be parted. Her hole was wet with her juice and I went in easily, right up with one hard shove, as far in as I could get. That made her moan, and she kept on as I set to fucking her, groaning and gasping and saying how much she loved my cock while I’m pumping it in and out of her pussy.

  I could just see my boss’ face if his precious wife produced a mixed race baby nine months later, but I didn’t care. If anything that made it even better, because he was such a bastard and there I was, up to my balls in his precious wife with her begging for more. I just spunked, right up her, and the moment she realised she whipped around to take me in her mouth again, sucking like she was demented and rubbing at her pussy at the same time, swallowing down my come and her own juice, over and over until she came.

  That was just the first time, and there were plenty more. I did get sacked in the end, but not for shagging his wife, just because I lost it with some stuck-up customer and told him to go and fuck himself. That didn’t stop us, and for the next year and a bit I used to go around to their house in Chelsea when he was at work and do my best to bonk her senseless on their bed. In the end they got divorced, she married a footballer and went to live up north, then in Spain, but I still remember her bent over those crates, her dress rucked around her waist to leave her titties out and that lovely little arse on show, with her pussy wet and ready for fucking between her thighs.

  Another good thing she did was give me a lot more confidence. Before that I’d always assume that most women were pretty calculating, and would only go with you if there was something in it for them. She taught me an important fact, which is that for all their airs and graces, when it comes down to it women are just as keen on cock as we are on pussy. OK, so a lot of the time you have to pretend it’s not about cock, but when it comes right down to it that’s what they’re after.

  While I was having her regularly I also managed to hook up with one of her friends. She was the same sort, a beauty who’d married rich and aimed to stay that way. Her husband was a banker, which meant he was hardly ever there, so I’d spend hours with her, both of us stark naked, just talking and drinking his champagne in between bouts of sex. She was good too. She liked to go on top, not so much because that way she was in control, but because she couldn’t get me all in but she loved to see herself in the mirror from behind, with her legs right open, her pert little bum spread wide and her pussy hole straining wide around the shaft of my cock. It did look good too, I’ve got to say.

  The really good thing about her was that she wasn’t jealous, just the opposite. She used to love the idea of sharing me with her friends, like I was a special treat she could give and a secret they all shared away from their husbands and boyfriends. A few months after I’d had my last go with the first girl I had three regulars, a year later, five, a year after that, eight. That’s eight beautiful wo
men, all married, all getting their portions at least once a week. Most of them knew about each other, and there was a bit of competition, but I managed to handle all that even if it was getting hard to satisfy them. The hardest part was trying to fit them all in, and in the end I fucked up, but that only made it better.

  I was supposed to be seeing the girlfriend of a French footballer, or at least I thought I was, but when I got to her place she was there with a friend, who we’ll call Vivienne. I was going to leave, but they made it very plain they didn’t mind and we got down to business, both of them together, stripped off on the guy’s huge waterbed, first sucking me together and then with their arses in the air while I took turns with them from behind. Four times I came before they’d had enough, and my cock felt like it had been skinned, but it was worth it.

  After that Vivienne became one of my regulars. She was married to a well known entrepreneur, and he was a lot older than her, so not only didn’t she see him very much, but she didn’t get much when she did. That was her line anyway, and I liked her, especially the way she never seemed to be able to get enough, and she really liked my cock. She was a dirty bitch too, into all sorts of stuff, but she was very particular. Like my banker’s wife, she liked to go on top, but she also liked it from behind, and to suck my balls and lick my arse, but always on the same side of the bed. Four times I had her before I figured out why.

  Their house was huge, with enormous rooms and really high ceilings. The bedroom was just the same, a great square room looking out over a park and the furniture wouldn’t even have fitted into a normal room. Against one wall was this massive wardrobe, an antique with three doors and a panel in each covered by old black wickerwork. I had better things to look at, so I hardly noticed it, until my fifth visit. She wanted to see if she could fit me in up her bum, and as always she wanted it a very particular way. That meant with her kneeling on the bed, facing the window, her knees wide, wide apart and her face in the covers so that her bum was the highest part of her body. She stayed like that while I got her ready, licking her bumhole and then lubing her up with this special cream she’d bought, until she was open enough to take this little pink plug she’d bought as well, because she’d got the whole thing worked out, every detail she needed to get her bum fucked.

 

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